I Once Had a Vulcan Pen Pal
by Vivian Street
Summary: "If interested please reply with alacrity and quickness for your Unparalleled assistance is FORTY PERCENT of 3.5 MILLION reward."-Spock receives a scam email.
1. Chapter 1

AN: You wanna know why Safe Mode hasn't been updated? This is why. Well, this and "Close Encounters". _Well_, this, "Close Encounters", and muffins.

Mmmm muffins.

(Oh, and a) sorry for any OOCness—this was written for the lulz and b) any grammatical or semantic mistakes in Hercule's emails are either there on purpose or are happy accidents.)

/AN

I Once Had a Vulcan Pen Pal

_Good afternoon friend,_

_ The most of wishes to your Healths and Families and Friends. I am desiring your understanding, condensation, and trust in this utmost discrete matter. I am called Hercule Dupin, Esq., son of the high adventure Augusta Dupin, grandson of C. Dupin who held the exalted office Treasurer To Nigeria most of his life. Once C. Dupin passed unto the other realm he bequeathed unto Mother a LARGE SUM of money (approx. 3.5 million credits) which he had obtained ENTIRE LEGALLY during one of the many coups which occurred during his tether. Mother recently last month was LOST when exploring a new discovered planet and therefore has passed the SUM to me. I am seeking your Guidance and Assistance in this matter because I wish to begin life anew away from Terra, but in my possession are not the papers or off-planet bank account necessary. If interested please reply with alacrity and quickness for your Unparalleled assistance is FORTY PERCENT of 3.5 MILLION reward._

_Your to trust,_

_Hercule Dupin, Esq._

Spock stared at the poorly written missive with a combination of fascination and revulsion. It was, if he wished to be exactingly technical, written in Vulcan, though not in "Vulcan" the way Vulcans used it.

He had two questions: one, how had this cretinous letter found its way past his state-of-the-art spam filter and two, how had the idiotic sender gotten hold of the username to his student account? Actually, he had another question, one of lesser immediate import but the contemplation of which caused the most bafflement; _why_ in the name of Surak did the sender (almost certainly a Human) believe that a Vulcan would make a good mark? It was obviously intended for a Vulcan; it wasn't as if any other races used their writing system.

Therefore, who in their right (or even wrong) mind would bother to set up a scam _which had a zero-percent chance_ of paying out? You didn't need to be Vulcan to compute those odds.

Therefore, in the interest of scientific enquiry, he constructed an alias account and penned a reply:

_Mr. Dupin,_

_ I am most honored to make your esteemed acquaintance. I am interested in your business proposition and would like further information._

_T'Prend_

Spock felt a bit silly using for a female name for an alias, but as this whole affair was so silly and _unVulcan_ (getting scam mail was a _very_ unVulcan thing to do), and as he felt very sure that his correspondent was also using a pseudonym, it simply felt like the right thing to do.

OK, not _right_; it was illogical and ridiculous and the perfect opposite of right, but that did not stop him from hitting send.

XXXXXX

The next day at school Spock learned that perhaps he'd been too harsh on himself last night. If getting scam mail was unVulcan, then the entire population of his learning institution, from the youngest pupils to the eldest, most dignified professors, were also a little bit not Vulcan.

The situation was more serious than he had supposed, because the going theory was that the scammer had hacked the institution's records in order to obtain the usernames. Of course, this theory was not in any way the _public_ theory; for that to happen the administrators would have to admit to having been hacked by a Terran too half-witted to use a capable translation app.

Which was impossible. (A proper Vulcan would never admit to such a thing.)

And yet, Spock could read it in the nebulous tension surrounding the administrators; in the narrowed eyes and the clandestine meetings carried out in hushed tones. He knew that this meant that, so far, the cretin had bested a school full of learned Vulcan professors. It was doubtful that this would still be an issue if they had been able to track the email to its source, or even if they had been able to identify the security loop-hole which had allowed the imbecile access.

It seemed that this simpleton could be quite proficient at a task when he put his mind to it.

XXXXXX

By the time he had been released from school, the scammer had sent him a reply.

_Most Loveliest T'Prend,_

_ It heats my grieved heart to receive word of your most discerning interest in my poor situation. Since my mother Augusta Dupin has passed over I have been completely alone in the universe as my siblings, taking after our illustrious Mother, have ventured forth into the Universe to EXPLODE the Wonders of the Galaxy. I wish to join them but I CANNOT because I alone am bearing the burden of this SUM of inheritance. With all of your assistances I will leave the confines of this Earthy Prison and ascend into the Reaches of the Heavens. The only thing I am requiring from you is your bank account number, a print of your passport or other identifying documents, and a small transaction fee of 20 credits and then your FORTY PERCENT of 4.5 MILLION will be yours._

_Your to trust,_

_Hercule_

Spock spent several minutes staring at the new email. It was, like the first one, quite badly written, so initially he might have been inclined to accept a certain amount of grammatical inventiveness and lexical confusion. However, now he was starting to wonder whether his new friend was truly in earnest. He felt fairly certain that, if 'Hercule,' had been serious, he would have made sure to write 'EXPLORE' instead of 'EXPLODE.' And from what he had read of Earth culture, leaving the 'confines of this Earthy Prison' and ascending 'into the Reaches of the Heavens' sounded more like a suicide than the conclusion to a business proposition. Also, the value of this 'SUM' had mysteriously increased by 1 million.

As these sorts of mistakes and oddities piled up, Spock began to form the impression that his pen pal was doing it on purpose. Perhaps 'Hercule' had not, in fact, believed that he could swindle Vulcans, and was actually sending these scam emails as some sort of Terran joke.

Not that any of this revised Spock's estimation of his intelligence.

_My dear Hercule,_

_ I send my condolences and well-wishes for your many misfortunes. I would be overjoyed to assist you in your time of need. I do not possess a passport as I have never had cause to travel outside of my home town. Your adventurous family has, however, sparked an interest of travel in my heart. Thank you for opening my eyes to the possibilities this universe holds._

_ In lieu of a passport, would a license to operate class P motor vehicles do? Also, how am I to send you the 20 credit transaction fee? I must assume that my efforts to provide you with this SUM will meet with the same resistance you have encountered whilst attempting to move your considerable fortune off-world._

_Your friend,_

_T'Prend_

XXXXXX

Spock's suspicions were confirmed when he read the reply which was waiting for him when he woke up. It was written in Standard.

_ Now you're just messing with me, aren't you?_

The corner of Spock's mouth might possibly have curled upward in amusement at reading that. He dashed off:

_No more than you were messing with me, Hercule._

And then he rose from his bed to get dressed for school.

XXXXXX

Now Spock was catching glimpses of Vulcans wandering the halls of his learning institution who were definitely not faculty or staff. The only reasonable explanation was that they were still searching for information on the mysterious ex-scammer. Which reminded him; why _had_ 'Hercule' gone through all this trouble when he hadn't believed he could make money from it? What other information, apart from usernames, had he gleaned from the school's records? And if he was going to use that information for his own nefarious purposes, then _why_ send an email to everyone in the school to inform them that they'd been hacked?

None of this made any sense, least of all the fact that he, Spock, was completely and helplessly fascinated by an entirely illogical—and possibly psychotic—Terran imbecile.

XXXXXX

As he had come to expect, a message was waiting for him when he was released from school.

_Dear T'Prend,_

_ Is this an alias for one of the students at the Eleventh Learning Academy?_

_Hercule_

Spock hesitated, then replied in the affirmative. He couldn't see any reason not to; either the Terran was adept enough at hacking that he could figure out the identity of "T'Prend" on his own, or else he wasn't, in which case the additional information wouldn't assist him in narrowing down T'Prend's identity from his list of over two hundred students.

And in any case, Spock was still itching to know what, exactly, this Terran thought he was doing.

XXXXXX

_Dear T'Prend,_

_ I'm a student, also. Human, as you've probably guessed._

_Hercule_

The reply was short and to the point, but Spock wasn't about to let the conversation end there.

_Hercule,_

_ What purpose did you have in obtaining the learning institution's records and sending us such an idiotic email?_

_T'Prend_

XXXXXX

_Dear T'Prend,_

_ I have to have a purpose? Adults have always told me that I have a problem with not thinking stuff through. I think this is one of those times._

_Hercule_

Spock huffed a bit with annoyance.

_Hercule,_

_ Hacking into the records of a Vulcan learning institution (or, indeed, any Vulcan institution) requires more than a little time and premeditation. I can only assume that you are, once again, 'messing with me.' I had hoped that we had progressed far enough in each other's confidences that you would feel able to disclose such a paltry bit of information to me._

_ I see now that I was wrong in my estimation of our relationship. I apologize for wasting your valuable time._

_T'Pend_

XXXXXX

_Dear T'Pend,_

_ Why do I feel like our roles have suddenly reversed? Haha, touché._

_ I did it to prove to myself that I could. Nothing more, nothing less. How're the other Vulcans handling getting scam mail for the first time in their lives? I bet they think the world's ending._

_Hercule_

Spock knew that he couldn't trust anything his correspondent wrote, but he felt inclined to take Hercule at face value. After all, if this was all part of some elaborate ploy of Hercule's to steal Spock's money or identity, it was much too convoluted to actually work.

_Hercule,_

_ I would say that that is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard, but I think your second email to me has already claimed that position._

_ I take it, then, that you are interested in computers?_

_T'Prend_

XXXXXX

They kept in touch, trading vague and possibly fictitious details of their lives, hobbies, and interests until once day, shortly before Spock was to begin his application for the Vulcan Science Academy, Hercule simply stopped replying.

XXXXXX

Spock stood on the bridge of the Enterprise and cocked his head slightly at James T. Kirk.

"And what do you know of Vulcan culture, Captain?" He asked politely, expecting the man to cite some laughable documentary he had watched in grade school as the sole source of his knowledge.

"Well," Kirk said thoughtfully, "I once had a Vulcan pen pal, you know. Her name was T'Prend, and…."

Spock felt such a sense of shock at that revelation that he did not hear the rest of what his captain was saying. He didn't need to listen, anyway.

He already knew how this story went.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Ok kids, this was meant to be a one-shot. However, a couple people asked for more, and thanks to them the plot bunnies started breeding under my bed (I seriously need to vacuum more often). So I present: "I Once Had a Vulcan Pen Pal," now with 101% MOAR.

(And pay no attention to the timeline. It is delicious and made of fudge.)

/AN

Spock waited until his shift was done, because he was patient that way and because he wanted to think this through. He wasn't about to inform the entire bridge that he'd once pretended to be a Vulcan female named T'Prend—he wasn't sure what the Humans might do with information like that but he _was_ sure it wouldn't be good. But if, on the other hand, he waited too long—a couple weeks, a month—to plan his reveal, it would feel wrong. Awkward. _Captain, you know how, a while ago, you mentioned that you were pen pals with T'Prend? Well, that was my alias…._

No.

He could let it go, and never bring up the topic again. That seemed like the best option; it would result in the least awkwardness all around.

As he entered his quarters he pulled his communicator off his belt to check for messages. He paused, staring at the screen.

As a properly trained Vulcan, he had perfect recall. With a bit of meditation, he could probably recite each email exchanged between T'Prend and Hercule, word-for-word. But an odd niggling feeling persisted, one similar to 'nostalgia,' as the Humans had described it to him. He wanted to _see_ the emails.

It had taken a bit of ingenuity to call up his archived alias mail account from his student days. The last time he had checked it was more than eight years ago, right after he had turned down the Vulcan Science Academy's offer and decided to join Starfleet. It had been a silly impulse, logging onto the neglected account to look for a new communication from his faceless friend, but he had hoped for one anyway. Maybe even, he had barely let himself think it, but maybe he would be able to _meet_ this 'Hercule.' Maybe he would have a friend on that strange, new, alien planet after all.

But no. Hercule had stopped responding more than a year before that. Spock had checked the account daily, then every couple of days, and finally weekly. After he sent a third message with no reply, he reached the logical conclusion; Hercule was not going to answer.

And then Spock realized that he could not let this matter go. He would have to reveal T'Prend's identity to the captain, if only to find out why he had stopped responding.

The captain was rather tight-lipped about his pre-Enterprise days. However, Spock had received the impression that his childhood had been less than idyllic. So maybe (he felt a silly and illogical welling of hope in his heart), just maybe, Hercule had not lost interest. Maybe he had been forced by circumstances beyond his control to stop his communications. Spock knew that the captain had joined Starfleet a few years later than most cadets—what had he been doing with his life before that?

Spock felt relieved that he had decided to reveal T'Pring's identity. Now he just had to choose _how_ he would go about it.

XXXXXX

They were on the bridge when it happened. The captain, for once, was sitting properly in his chair. Spock suspected that the slouching had begun to bother his back, but knew the poor posture would invariably make a reappearance if he commented on its absence.

The captain fidgeted with his communicator for a few seconds, then flipped it open with a nonchalance which indicated that he did not expect to see any new communiqués. The last time he had checked it was only 44.60 minutes ago, after all.

The captain glanced at the screen and started to close the comm. Then he blinked. His brow furrowed, and he brought the screen closer to his face, as though having trouble reading it. He let out a quick bark of disbelieving laughter and started poking around on the screen.

A few of the bridge crew had looked up at the sound, but they had enough experience with Kirk to know that he was probably just trying to draw their attention to himself. Once that was accomplished, he would then attempt to initiate a conversation with whoever was looking at him. They quickly looked back to the terminal screens at their stations.

Therefore, Spock was the only witness to the expressions of consternation, amusement, and then, oddly enough, annoyance that flashed across the captain's face.

"Ok," he said, voice pitched to include the entire bridge. Heads dutifully turned to focus on Kirk. "Who sent me this?" He waved the comm at his audience.

"Sent you what, Captain?" Uhura asked coolly.

"_A good evening to you, sir-slash-madam,"_ Kirk read sarcastically. "_I am hoping this message finds you well, as I hope to soon count you amongst my dearest of friends. I am T'Prend, once treasurer of Vulcan and more recently, in my later years, honorary visor to Prince Horatio of Nigeria. I am needing your assistance in moving a large SUM of money off of Terra, as it has come to my attention that my life is in grave DANGER. In the past three Terran months two of Prince Horatio's other advisors have died under mysterious circumstances; one involving a stingray, the other, an aardvark. I fear that I am next and my prince agrees as he has gifted me with the SUM of 3.5 MILLION CREDITS and bade me to flee the planet. If you believe you can assist me in removing my wealth in secrecy (it cannot be done under my name as the ASSASSINS are undoubtedly WATCHING), I will REWARD you with FORTY PERCENT of the SUM. Your to trust, T'Prend."_

Once Kirk was finished, he looked back up at the bridge crew with accusing eyes. Spock prevented himself from sighing. He should have known better than to assume the Human would notice the similarities between T'Prend's new letter and the first one Hercule had sent all those years ago. Perhaps he had been too subtle. Perhaps the captain had completely forgotten the particulars of the email. Spock could not imagine what it must be like to have a memory that fleeting and inexact.

Chekov spoke up. "Sir?" Kirk nodded at him. "I receiwed ze same message." At that, two other people nodded, and many others turned back to their stations, checking for new messages.

The entire staff of the bridge confirmed it; they had all gotten the same email. Kirk gestured for Spock to follow him as he strode into the conference room.

XXXXXX

"I want to say this is a joke, and it probably is, but the more I think about it the more I realize that it's probably not the joke I think it is." He paused in his pacing around the room. "Does that make sense?"

Spock raised an eyebrow.

Kirk resumed pacing. "Ok, look. When I was telling the bridge crew about T'Prend, I kinda glossed over the details for how we met. Long story short; _only_ T'Prend would have the knowledge needed to send that sort of email." Kirk stared at Spock's unmoving form. "Ok, maybe that was too short. I…when I was a teenager I was an idiot. Well, more of an idiot." He amended. "I hacked into the electronic files of some learning institution on Vulcan just to prove to myself that I could. And then, I thought…well, I wouldn't say _thought_, but I felt that, what was the use of doing all of that when no one else would ever know that I could? So I sent all the Vulcans at that learning institution a scam email." The captain seemed inordinately embarrassed by this admission. "I just thought, y'know, that it'd be funny." He laughed a bit. "Still kind of is. But anyway, one of the students emailed me back through an alias called T'Prend. And we…actually got along pretty well."

Kirk took a deep breath and plopped himself in a nearby chair. "And I don't know what to do with this new email. The timing's too perfect. I'd say it had to be a crewmember's prank, but it really does seem like it came from T'Prend. But T'Prend doesn't know my real name, and she didn't seem the type to take up email scams for a living. Anyway, didn't that message sound like a joke to you? The part about an aardvark…real scam messages might sound like excerpts from soap operas, but they take themselves seriously. This one…not so much. But it…seriously, Spock. This makes no sense. The timing and recipient list point to a crewmember, the content to T'Pring. " Kirk rubbed his face with his hands.

It was messily and inexpertly reasoned, but Spock did have to admit that the captain had drawn out the two most salient points. "You have identified two sets which the sender might belong to—the crew of the Enterprise and T'Prend. Each explains some, but not all, of the observed details, correct?" Kirk nodded. "Therefore, what conclusion would you have to draw in order to explain all of the details?" Kirk frowned in confusion. Spock resisted the urge to sigh. He had to admit that, had their positions been reversed, he probably would be doing only slightly better than the captain. After all, what Vulcan would expect his scam-artist Human pen pal to be put in command of the Federation's flagship?

"The _only_ reasonable conclusion is that the two sets intersect." Spock supplied.

Kirk blinked. "T'Prend is on the Enterprise?" He paused. "T'Prend is part of the _crew_ of the Enterprise? But she's a Vulcan. Well, I thought she was a Vulcan. But if she wasn't…."

Spock held up a hand to stop the captain's rambling. "T'Prend was a Vulcan. However, there is another assumption which you should be questioning."

"How would you…" Kirk trailed off as he stared at Spock with wide eyes. "No…. No. What?"

Spock raised an eyebrow.

"Ok, just to get this straight…_you_ are the only Vulcan on this ship, right?" Spock nodded, enjoying the incredulous expressions which were contorting the captain's face.

"You are T'Prend." Kirk said cautiously.

"And you are Hercule." Spock said back.

Kirk continued to stare for a moment, then was taken over by paroxysms of laughter.

XXXXXX

Spock followed the captain out of the conference room and back onto the bridge.

"So Captain, do you know who sent the message?" Sulu asked, looking at Kirk curiously.

"Spock looked into it. It's nothing to worry about." Kirk replied, avoiding Spock's gaze while he said it.

XXXXXX

When Spock checked his messages before meditation, he found a new one from his captain.

_Spock,_

_I just hacked into my old scam mail account and I guess I have some explaining to do. The last message T'Prend got from me was sent two days before I graduated from high school. It was also sent two days before I ran away from Riverside. I'm sorry I never told you what happened, and I feel really guilty about it now. The only thing I can say is that my life was really different after Riverside, and talking to my high school pen pal just never crossed my mind._

_ Ok, that's a lie. I thought about T'Prend a lot, but I couldn't think of what I would say. Real life had never really entered into our conversations. Would I pretend that everything was normal? That I had a steady job, or was going to college, or still had another year of high school left? Or would I tell my Vulcan pen pal, the one applying to some prestigious academy, that I had given up on getting a degree and was living like a hobo?_

_ You know what the funny thing it? You ran away from home, too. You turned down higher education on Vulcan to come slum it here on Earth._

_ I guess we would have had more in common than I thought._

_Hercule_


End file.
